Fanboy
by derpette-Waffle
Summary: He wasn't special. He was just Dan, and just Dan wasn't good enough for amazing Phil. - Dan's POV
1. Chapter 1

Last month I broke things off with Jessica in what I thought had been a pretty amicable breakup. The next day, word around school was that she dumped me when she found out I was gay. Calls of "faggot" rang out in the halls when I walked through them –they were only rumours, as far as they knew, and to think they'd never seen a gay kid before. I cut out early, during break. I texted Jessica before deleting her number, promising myself I wouldn't answer if she replied. Up yours, too, Jess.

I had to admit, the rumours were pretty believable, and not entirely untrue. I wasn't gay, though; if anyone (anyone I could trust) asked me, I'd probably tell them that I was bicurious. And I'd of course expect them to exile me just like everyone else in the school had.

Word was still buzzing around behind my back and sometimes blatantly in my face, but I couldn't care. As much as I wanted to say something back, to defend myself, I could not bring myself to care enough to do so. I'd just hold my head as high as I could manage, elbowing through a sea of cunts as they bombarded me with any homophobic slang their first-year vocabularies could come up with.

Maybe I would've cared more about what my peers thought of me if I didn't have a life beyond those cement walls. Well, I still didn't have a life, per se… Unless you count stalking my favorite YouTube people online, people who didn't so much as know I existed –in that case, yes, I had a very full life, full of riding a thin line between friendly and slightly crazy.

There were the usual ones, the more popular channels that a bunch of my friends and I watched together before they decided they didn't really want to be my friends anymore. Then there were some more that were kind of my own little secret, I guess: a secret that I shared with thousands of other people, maybe, but I didn't let that ruin my little fantasy. I sort of had this weird idea that I would be best friends with some of these people, if we met mutually for a change.

And, as cheesy as it sounds, that's kind of how everything started.

* * *

I trudged home and threw my backpack against a door, I don't know which. Mum was in the living room, ready to ask me about my day at school if I didn't make it to my bedroom first. I rushed upstairs, hoping one of the channels I subscribed to had uploaded something to take away from this usual miserable day.

No such luck, and I closed my laptop again, falling back onto my bed. I had some drawings up on the ceiling; they weren't very good, and they were all crinkled as I had to tear them down before I had anyone over, not like that happened much anymore. They were, honestly, fan art, and mediocre at best.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Someone must've gotten the wrong number. I pulled it out to check: no, it was Nick inviting me to go to the football match tonight. Nick and I had been friends since primary school, and he seemed to feel an obligation to keep that going. He felt sorry for me, but kept hanging out with the pricks who'd ostracized me out of fear I might want their junk. No, thank you. I told him I'd rather drink my own piss –yes, I regretted how rude it had been, but it got the point across when I was in a sour mood.

I rolled over and found nothing to do even when the world was right side up again. I clambered awkwardly off my bed and crawled back to my desk to get my computer. Might as well spend the night like every night, stalking internet personalities via social media websites: it was a favorite pastime of mine.

I read through a bunch of tweets, but didn't reply to any. I really probably wasn't as much of a stalker with a lot of these people as I let on, except for this one guy… but no, Phil hadn't tweeted yet today, which was odd.

Oh yeah, about Phil: AmazingPhil was probably my absolute favorite YouTube channel, and so (naturally) he was the one who over the last two years I decided I was going to become best friends with him. That meant that I had to pretty much comment on every video and tweet him every day just trying to get him to notice me, to the point where it was probably really fucking creepy. But of all the people I watched online, he was the one I felt like I had a sort of personal connection with. It was all just a fantasy, but I was completely platonically infatuated.

My phone buzzed again, and I was debating between biting Nick's head off or apologizing for being such a dick. I had assumed it was Nick, anyway, but no: someone had direct messaged me on Twitter.

I checked exactly who would want to be messaging me at all, and I was floored when I saw who it was.

_ AmazingPhil: hi dan_


	2. Chapter 2

Don't fuck this up. Seriously, fucking AmazingPhil is finally talking to you and you really don't want to show him what a freak you are already. Play it cool and you'll be best friends in no time.

I almost went so far as to pretend I didn't know who it was but that would just be s a really stupid move and an insult to both our intelligence. If he was messaging me, obviously he'd seen that I was stalking him almost religiously for months, maybe a year. To play that cool would just be playing dumb, and that was not how I was gonna make friends. I didn't want to put on a façade, but being myself was not an option.

_ danisnotonfire: omg hey_

It was subtle enough for a fan's response, or so I convinced myself. I sat there, rocking slightly as I waited for him to respond, starting to chew my nails until I realized what I was doing and gagged. I looked at the time; a few minutes had passed and dinner would probably be ready soon. I had to hope he replied soon, but at the same time I didn't want to seem too eager.

He didn't take very long to write back.

_ AmazingPhil: sorry, I meant to talk to you earlier_

_ danisnotonfire: oh it's okay! I'm surprised you'd wanna talk to me at all_

I probably replied a bit too quickly. Four lines into the conversation and I was coming off like some stupid preteen girl swooning over a boyband, though I was considerably more contained, and not using any dumb emoticons that I normally used. I could pride myself on that, at least; I was keeping my cool pretty well, considering how I was feeling the crazy boil up inside me.

_ AmazingPhil: haha no I've actually been looking forward to hearing from you when I upload or tweet something :)_

He knew my username and sent me a smiley face emoticon. AmazingPhil just told me he looked forward to hearing from me and sent me a fucking smiley face emoticon with it. I tried not to hyperventilate. I gave myself a second of silence, trying to not freak out and redeem my obvious eagerness from before, but I was silently begging him not to go offline while I kept him waiting. I only achieved sixty seconds, then I had to say something back.

_ danisnotonfire: you read my stuff yea?_

_ AmazingPhil: you're kinda hard to miss :P_

I could accept that, I was probably so dedicated that it was scary. I couldn't imagine if any of my former friends had ever found out about this kind of craziness. They already thought I was weird; this was a whole new level of insanity by their ignorant standards.

_ AmazingPhil: you reply me every day and are usually first comment on my videos_

I hadn't noticed I'd left him hanging for a moment until he sent me another message, and before I could stop myself, my fingers were typing out a stupid reassurance over something that wasn't even an issue.

_ danisnotonfire: sometimes you upload while I'm at school and so I can't get to the video right away. I don't have a life beyond school and youtube_

I slammed my head down on the desk when I realized it was too late to take any of that back. Way to be your incredibly, horrifically awkward self, Daniel, advertising your nonexistent social life with just short of a fucking giant neon sign, and to someone you want to think you're a halfway interesting guy.

_ AmazingPhil: aww :) well that's about what I have too. but you have friends don't you?_

Somehow –for a reason I would never find on God's green earth- he found my lack of existence outside the internet endearing, of all things. I found it sort of endearing how he still thought I could have real friends when I'd just laid out in front of him how much of a dork I am.

_ danisnotonfire: no they couldn't handle me_

_ AmazingPhil: handle you?_

_ danisnotonfire: sink down to my level of social awkwardness_

I bit my lip. I'd been dreaming for a while of being friends with Phil, but the idea was becoming more and more difficult to think about the more I talked to him. He just seemed too good to be true, and soon he'd come to his senses and stop talking to me.

_ AmazingPhil: for someone who insists they're so horribly awkward you're doing really well right now_

I just stared at the screen for a moment, not knowing quite how to respond. My face tightened a bit, nerves firing, as I took a chance on my next reply.

_ danisnotonfire: you make it easy_

I started to regret it the minute I hit 'send.' I curled up on my desk chair, knees pulled to my chest and wanting to just go lay down. No, now was no time for this. You just said probably the most creepy thing you possibly could've to your fucking idol; you have no one to blame but your-

_ AmazingPhil: think you could still make it if we were video chatting or something? or would that make you uncomfortable?_

_ AmazingPhil: it'll be okay, I'll try to make sure you stay alright talking. I'll give you my skype username, if you promise not to give it out to anyone_

I was sort of dumbfounded for a moment. Was he making a legitimate offer to Skype with me, and trying to reassure me that I didn't have to worry about my awkwardness (if only it was that easy). I'd been watching him for too long to think he was being naïve or hasty or anything but honestly talking to me as a human being.

_ danisnotonfire: promise._


	3. Chapter 3

I moved with my laptop to my bed, to get more comfortable and to buy time to not outwardly freak out over this while on camera. Even when I wasn't responding for a few minutes, Phil was still messaging me.

_ AmazingPhil: dan are you there?  
AmazingPhil: oh that's okay i'll be here when you gte back  
AmazingPhil: *egt  
AmazingPhil: **get  
AmazingPhil: … back - get back - when you get back_

It was kind of cute, actually; he seemed really bored and probably lonely, but I knew he had friends he could maybe he hanging out with instead of talking to me. It was weird but sort of comforting to watch him be almost as awkward as I could be. I couldn't leave him hanging anymore, so I typed out a quick reply so he wouldn't think I'd abandoned him (though, when your idol direct messages you on Twitter, you do not just leave.)

_ danisnotonfire: I'm adding you on skype rn brb_

I couldn't get to video chatting with him right away, though, because then he'd see the stupid blush on my face.

Yeah, the rumours at school weren't so unbelievable. Even when I was still dating Jessica, I had a crush on Phil; I tried to keep it a secret, though. I guess when she finally put together how I would rather watch YouTube on a Friday night then go out to dinner with her, she figured it out. Still, she shouldn't have said anything, especially when, no, I'm not gay. I still like boobs and even though I've never been inside one, I hear vaginas are lovely.

I tried to rub the redness from my cheeks, but that was obscenely counterproductive and just made it worse. My face felt so hot I was starting to feel lightheaded, and the more I touched my cheeks, the more I started to wonder if I even looked okay to be on camera. I ran down the hall to the tiny bathroom, and examined my reflection. I looked blotchy now, and my face was still cherry red. I let out a shaky sigh and dragged my feet back to my bedroom.

_ AmazingPhil: dan? are you still there?_

I shook my head and for a brief moment considered just not replying. He'd been so patient with me, waiting for me to stop wallowing in my blotchy red face.

_ danisnotonfire: yeah i'm still here hold on_

I couldn't put it off too much longer, or he'd get impatient and give up, tired of waiting. I couldn't miss this opportunity, even if I did look like shit. I sent him a video chat request.

Phil looked like he just rolled out of bed and he still looked five times better than I did. His smile literally lit up the screen. "Hi."

I couldn't read what he was thinking, and not knowing usually just made me close in on myself more. He managed to make me feel more comfortable with myself, though –always reliably, always obliviously. I leaned a bit closer so I could actually be seen, though somewhat reluctantly. "Hey," I mumbled, hoping my blush wasn't too obvious. I decided to just accept that I was turning into a hormonal teenage girl.

"Glad you finally showed up!" He was clutching a pillow to his chest, which was strangely adorable. "So you had school today, yeah? How was that?"

I hesitated, just looking at him for a moment before that got kind of awkward. He seemed to be in no rush to get an answer, so I considered lying about it and tell him that I'd had a good day when in actuality, it was the same old shit from the last month that he tried to ignore.

"Honestly, not too great. Last month my girlfriend and I broke up, and told everyone it's because I'm gay, but I'm not. I'm… bi." I just hoped that he wouldn't see right through me like he probably could, and realize that he was the guy I was currently crushing on. I could only pray I wasn't making it as painfully obvious as I thought I was. He seemed unfazed, though.

"Don't worry, it'll be over soon." He shifted, and I realized he was sitting on his bed. My mind immediately went to all the wrong places; I shook them away, reminding myself to try not to feel bad about that –I was a teenage boy, after all.

"So how was your day?"

"Pretty dull. I filmed a bit today, hopefully gonna upload soon." He was picking at his sheets.

I smiled. "Can't wait." He probably figured that, though.

I was glad to see him smile back; he had such a great smile. "You'll be first comment when it's up?"

And suddenly that smile seemed to be just for me. That had admittedly been a fantasy of mine for a while –that there was a real personal connection when I was watching him- but now it seemed overwhelmingly real. "Um, yeah, if you don't upload it while I'm in class…" Goddammit, I was blushing again.

He smirked, eyes downcast, so I didn't have to worry too much about my red cheeks at the moment. "I'll keep that in mind."

There was silence for a minute then. It wasn't a terribly awkward silence like I was prone to, so I was grateful for that. I also tried to be grateful for talking to him like this, but I just kept thinking about how I wanted to be there with him. I wanted to touch him and –no, not necessarily sexually (though that would be nice.) I just wanted to run my fingertips over the skin of his arms or something. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and know what it felt like to hold him. I wanted to kiss him, even if it was just sweet and chaste.

"Dan! Dinner time, come downstairs!"

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. "Coming, Mum…" I called back grudgingly. I turned back to Phil, who seemed a bit confused. He probably only heard my response, and was brought to attention again after a long time of quiet. "Um, I have to go and eat now. I…"

He seemed a bit lost for what to do. "I was going out with some friends tonight," he said slowly, as if choosing exactly what to say. He was quick to add, "But I'll message you again after I get back? I probably won't be late…"

I nodded, a bit relieved. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. I'll be here."

He smiled brightly at me, as if at the idea of talking to me again soon. "Okay. Enjoy your food, Dan! I'll talk to you tonight."

I managed to keep a horrible blush off my face until he was offline.

I went downstairs to eat quickly. Dad wasn't home; Mum asked me why my face was so red, and I just ignored the question and pretending to be lost in my meal. Adrian teased me for my blushing, and I told him to shut the fuck up because it was none of his business that I was blushing at meeting my fucking idol. No one would ever let me live that down.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time I finished eating, Phil wasn't back online. I looked at the clock: only 7:30, so I couldn't really expect him to be back after less than half an hour. I flopped down onto my bed, trying to figure out what I could do to occupy myself while I waited.

My room was a horrible, horrible mess, but I had no intention of cleaning it; I had two assignments due, but I was not going to do them. I tried to come up with some excuse I could use to get out of turning in my homework –"nose cancer" would not work a second time, so that was out. I shrugged and figured I'd just say that I didn't do it and accept my fate. I would've played Pokemon, but I lost my console last week and even though it was probably somewhere on the safety hazard that was my bedroom floor, I was far too lazy to look for it if it meant getting up at all.

I rolled over, nearly falling off my mattress (which would've been inconvenient since I'd decided I was not getting up). I still had an indefinite amount of time to kill before Phil would be back, and that was if he really meant it when he said he'd come back. I learned from years of watching him, Phil was a sweetheart but kind of sporadic, and just because he meant to come back when he said he would, I probably shouldn't hold him to that, especially when we'd talked for a half hour at most.

I grabbed my laptop and assumed my crippling browsing position. I'd been meaning to compile a bucket list for this summer, but it just didn't seem to be happening. It had one item: 'get fit lol'. I laughed every time I saw it, knowing deep down that it was never gonna happen. I deleted the file.

Mindlessly browsing the internet only seemed to hold some of my focus tonight, and by nine I was starting to doze off. I'd been falling asleep earlier and earlier, which sucked but it was still happening no matter how I tried to stay awake. I was about to really fall asleep when some noise came from my laptop.

_ AmazingPhil: hi :)_

Summer came quickly. Phil and I had started talking regularly, which made life feel so much brighter. We had each other's numbers now, which made it easier to plan Skype calls.

_you're not very good at answering texts haha_

I was going into town today to do some shopping. I was trying to keep my message light, but if he was here he'd see how hard I was biting my lip.

This wasn't too unusual. There would be days where we'd message back and forth endlessly from when we woke up to when we'd see each other on Skype –those were my favorite days. But then there were times where I'd text him ten times and not get one reply. I almost had a panic attack or something one time when he didn't reply for a whole three days. And then when he came back, it would always be as if he hadn't been putting me off. That kind of hurt, but I tried not to let it bother me.

"Hey faggot!"

I groaned. Not these dickheads from school, I had to deal with them enough when it wasn't summer break. I held my head higher and went to walk right past them. I thought I was free of the pricks until I was yanked to a sudden halt as one of them grabbed the strap of my bag. "Hey-!"

And then a fist connected with my jaw and I was knocked to the ground. And they were laughing; they were having a great time for themselves as they started kicking me, roars of enjoyment echoing up and down the street as passersby bypassed the scene, minded their own business. Pain shot through my body as blow after blow was brought down on my body. I tried to curl into myself, cower like a fucking pussy just to keep from getting my head bashed in. And they were still laughing when I lost consciousness.

I woke up to the smell of cleaning solvent, and I crinkled my nose. Ugh. Everywhere hurt, even as the nurse told me of the copious amount of painkillers they'd given me in my sleep. They'd taken my belongings when I'd gotten here; I asked for my phone, which one particularly pretty nurse promptly retrieved for me.

_(12) New Messages  
(4) Missed Calls_

I checked. Two were from my dad, both asking where I was; three from my mum, asking where I was twice and another insisting I answered her calls. She'd called twice, too. Everything else was from Phil. I smirked; way to pick the… two hours I was unconscious to finally reply, not once, but seven times.

_hi dan! how's your day going? :)  
haha dan gonna answer?  
dan?  
dan where are you?  
are you okay?  
dan, are you okay?_

I didn't want to keep him waiting, though my hands hurt and he probably deserved some silence. But I couldn't let him go on worrying when I could tell him I was fine, just banged up a bit and my pride somewhat wounded.

_hey i'm fine._

His reply this time was almost immediate.

_where are you?_

_hospital. a bunch of cunts from school beat the shit out of me. i'm being told i sustained nothing worse than a few bruises though. i'm fine –promise._

I could almost hear his sigh of relief through the words on my screen a moment later.

_oh god. i cn't believe this, i was so scared you were dead! are you sure you're okay? do you want me to come down there?_

Honestly, yeah, that would be nice. I could finally see him in person. I thought for a moment, fingers hovering over the keypad, until I concluded, disappointed in myself, that I shouldn't uproot him for something like this. I was fine, there was no need for him to rush all the way here thinking I was hurt that badly. I could wait a while longer.

Still, I couldn't help but smile at the idea that he would rush to me like that.

_i'll be online later tonight. please don't flake on me this time x_

_wouldn't dream of it! 3_


	5. Chapter 5

I left the hospital later that evening, my dad picking me up and taking me straight home. I was really fucking sore still, so he helped me up to my room and told me to get some rest. He forgot to close the door behind him, and by the time I realized and started shouting after him, he couldn't hear me. I groaned and rolled out of bed, bruises stinging all over. I trudged to the door and slammed it for passive aggressive emphasis. While I was up anyway, I grabbed my laptop from my desk and moved back to my bed. I had promised a Skype call, and it was still early. I looked like shit, more so than usual; Phil never seemed to mind.

I hated thinking so, but he kind of looked like shit, too. He looked really, really tired for only eight o'clock, eyes sunken and hair disheveled, having to lean on a pillow plush for support. I didn't want to say anything, but he didn't look too well. "You alright?" I asked carefully, eyes focused on him through the webcam.

He jolted, as if I'd woken him up. "I should be asking you. You were beat up by your former classmates? Did you tell the police?"

I shrugged and shook my head, but it was uncomfortable and I made note not to move more than I had to. It would be a subdued conversation tonight, ending early, too; I was hurting all over still, and Phil –usually the more animated of the two of us- looked too tired to make up for my lack of energy, or even reach his own standard levels. "I figured it wouldn't be worth it. I'll just leave it alone and eventually they'll leave me alone."

I watched him nod; he was trying not to comment. I knew his stance on bullying –fighting it did nothing, and ignoring it was even worse. I knew he wanted me to tell someone, but I was gonna keep my mouth shut. It was going to end soon, anyway.

"Well, enough of my shit. Are you alright? You look exhausted." I wondered if maybe he'd had a busy day, that that was why it took him so long to text me, and then to do so all at once.

He went blurry for a moment as he shuddered. "I'm fine," he replied, rubbing his eye. It was the least convincing thing I'd heard in a while.

"You're lying to me, Phil." I hated lying, as hypocritical as it was. I was quite a liar myself, but only in necessary situations like to explain away unfinished assignments and cutting out of school early. It always came back to how I hated school, but I had good reasons, at least: school was shit. "When are you gonna stop lying to me?"

"I only ever lie to spare you." He seemed startled as the truth left his mouth, and he was blushing when I smiled fondly at him. "I mean… never mind."

I laughed and tried to hide the reddening of my own face. I just watched him for a moment, before changing the topic –it didn't exactly lighten up, though. "So I had to admit today that I haven't been taking the medication I was prescribed a few months ago."

He blinked. "Medication for what?"

I laughed. "What they called intermittent periods of depression. Like, I'm just fine most of the time, but they think for those occasional bad days I have, I need to be doped up. It's bullshit."

He rubbed at his face, silent for a moment. The time in between was rather uncomfortable for me, probably for him, too. "I think you should try it. What harm could it do?"

I scoffed. "I'm already an exile of society, I don't need to give the world another reason to think I'm a freak when there's nothing wrong with me."

He tilted his head, eyes hardening just a bit. "A freak?"

"I mean, it wouldn't make me a freak by my own standards. I know that some people do need pills to go about their daily lives, and there's nothing wrong with that. But I used to have a friend who was on antidepressants and the minute people found out, they started to treat him different. He'd been taking them for years and was no different as far as anyone was concerned, except then they knew that he was medicated –rightfully so, though- and they decided to ostracize him like they did to me when rumours went around that I was gay."

He squinted, face contorting slightly, shifting where he sat on his bed. "Listen, I'm really tired, I'll text you in the morning."

I frowned, just a little confused, but tried to let it go. "Alright… First to wake up?" We always tried to text each other as soon as we woke up, so if the other was still sleeping they had a little message to get up to.

He nodded, waved limply and logged off.

I turned my laptop off and set it aside, groaning as I failed to ignore the aching bruises littering my flesh all over. I leaned back in bed, slowly, hoping the painkillers I'd taken earlier would take effect soon.

That had been our shortest call yet, only ten minutes, and it hadn't ended on a particularly good note. I couldn't sleep for a while, tired as I was, just thinking about him. I mean, I thought about Phil a lot, but tonight felt… different somehow. And I couldn't figure out if it was a good or bad thing.


	6. Chapter 6

We didn't Skype for a few days after that. We'd text each other, less often than usual, but things between us seemed to be on the mend. I'd ask Phil to come online though, and he'd say he wasn't feeling well and was probably going to bed soon. I'd ask what was wrong, and he'd say he was fine; I'd ask again, and he wouldn't answer.

In the meantime, those pills were looking more and more like a tolerable option. When in doubt, dope it out, yeah? No, but I had been feeling particularly low since our video chats had all but ceased. I'd take them, but keep doing so a secret to the grave. I didn't need one more thing for society to exile me for.

One night I got a text from Phil, apologizing for being a twat. I laughed and told him he was 'reluctantly forgiven x'.

We patched things up pretty quickly and easily, and soon summer was over.

If I couldn't say I had any friends to hang out with during the school year, I certainly didn't have any now that most of my peers had gone off to university. I was still at home, wasting away in my bedroom most hours. My mum would come in some days to pick up after me (having just accepted I was far too lazy to do it myself) and tell me to get out of the house for a while as she put my laundry away. I couldn't say no when she was cleaning my room for me, so I'd just grab my phone and head out the front door, no real destination in mind.

It was early October, an afternoon of drizzle, and I was sitting on a wet bench at the park because I couldn't get out of going out in the light rain. I was sort of drowsy, woken up too early when I'd been in deep conversation with Phil until two in the morning. I'd stopped in Starbucks and bought the largest, strongest coffee legally available, but the café was packed and so I was forced back into the outside world.

_miss you already. staying up tonight?_

I set my cup aside to reply.

_def. what time?_

He didn't reply for a while, and I started to grow impatient. I laughed and typed out another message.

_STOP IGNORING MEE_

_i'm not ignoring you donut. :P_

_what time then?_

_maybe nine?_

_can i get a more accurate time?_

_no_

I groaned halfheartedly. A pigeon tried to settle on the seat beside me, but I swatted it away. It tried to peck me, but quickly flew away in fear. Damn straight.

_just don't flake again!_

There was a long moment before he answered. I didn't mind so much; I hadn't given him much to respond to. I didn't believe he would leave me hanging tonight –we were making a pretty good track record of really long calls almost every night. I sipped at my coffee, cherishing the warmth of it. My phone buzzed and I checked again.

_I want to meet you in person._

I could tell him I was feeling the exact same way; I could say how I would use any plausible excuse to see him beyond a computer screen. It could feel so much more real than even what we had now. I could tell him that I wanted to touch him, and not in a dirty way: just wanted to hold him in my arms and bury my face into his neck and just smell him and never forget what he smelled like. I could even tell him that I was falling in love with him every night, but I didn't.

_me too._

October 19. That was the day I would take a train up to Manchester ("to look at the university"); Phil would meet me at the station. He had the house to himself, and we could be alone together for a whole three days. Maybe I could tell him then.

You know those big romantic moments in films where two lovers lay eyes on each other, the world around them switches to slow motion and then run dramatically into each other's arms? That didn't happen. The station was noisy and honestly I almost couldn't find Phil, which would've been really bad since I was staying with him and didn't want to sleep under a bench or something.

It was raining, but I found him outside, droplets dripping from his hood, not seeming to mind the wetness at all. And I called out to him –four times before he spotted me. Our eyes met, and yeah, there was some spark lit in my brain, but it was just a little one and not sappy at all. He called back to me, waving excitedly, and I elbowed my way through a small crowd to get to him.

We stood a few feet apart for a moment, sort of just staring at each other. I saw him as a three-dimensional figure now, and he was taller and not quite so pale as I'd anticipated; his hair was messy and wet and falling limp in his eyes that were so much bluer than I'd seen before. They had a sparkle that the camera couldn't capture.

And then he was hugging me and clawing slightly at my back. He was pressing his face hard into my shoulder and for a second it felt sort of like he was biting, but I couldn't be sure and had to be imagining it.

I hesitated to wrap my arms around him too, but once I held him, I never wanted to let go. I squeezed him tight and smiled at how he was just a bit squishy. I buried my face into his neck and inhaled his scent, memorizing it just like I wanted to.

The world around us didn't move in slow motion –it didn't exist.

We didn't say anything for a while, but soon we had to let go. He dusted himself off, as if to rid himself of my essence, and I pretended to do the same. He took my bag from me and slung it over his shoulder and –oh god, those shoulders- and took my wrist, pulling me along. I followed.


	7. Chapter 7

I was a horny teenager and I'd accepted it, giving in because he wanted it, too.

It wasn't sex, but close enough, and it ended all too soon. My face was bright red when I came down from my high. I felt Phil chuckling softly against my sweat slick neck, and it only added to my embarrassment. "I… Sorry." I groaned, shifting against the uncomfortable mess in my pants.

"It's fine, Dan. You'll last longer when you're more experienced." Oh, he knew I was a fucking virgin; great, because that didn't make things worse. He patted my side and sat up; I watched as he kneeled on the bed, undid the button and zip of his jeans and started stroking himself through his boxers. I whined and winced as I started to get aroused again already. "Do you wanna keep going?" His eyes told me that he didn't mind if I wanted to stop, that he would go to the bathroom and finish up.

My eyes moved back to the bulge in his pants, as if they'd ever left. I heard him groan and I could tell easily that he wanted me to give him something, but he was trying to play all gentle with me because it was my first time. Bullshit.

I crawled in front of him, face at his nearly exposed crotch. I licked my lips unconsciously, smirking when he made a noise of approval. I kissed just below his naval. "I'm gonna suck you off," I mumbled against his soft flesh. "I want to." I glanced up to see him nod silently, and that was all the encouragement I needed.

I trailed my lips down to his waistband, and slowly pulled his jeans and underwear down at once. He gasped quietly as he was exposed. I needed to take a minute because this was the first time I'd ever seen a fully hard cock besides my own, and let's just say he was much more endowed than I was.

"You sure you want to do this, Dan?" Phil's straining voice briefly brought me away from thoughts of large throbbing penis in my mouth. I nodded, blushing.

A realization struck me at probably the worst of times. "Okay, I don't actually know how to do this, but-"

"It's easy. Just take it in, use your tongue and keep your teeth away." He started stroking my hair, and I felt at least slightly reassured. I had to figure he'd gotten one before, and wondered for a moment if he'd ever been on the giving end. Phil told me a while ago that he was bi, and had been in sexual relationships with both girls and guys, so it wasn't a farfetched idea that he had given oral a time or two. I could just imagine those lips stretched around a dick, preferably my own-

I pushed that thought out of my mind as he tugged slightly at my hair, making me moan.

"Okay." I assured myself that I would do my best, and slowly took him into my mouth. It felt really, really weird, but I kind of liked it. I gave a curious lick to his slit, and the taste was strange and I wasn't sure if I liked it, but it wasn't necessarily bad. I heard him moaning above me, and those delicious noises were more than worth it.

My jaw soon grew sore, and I accidentally closed my mouth around him, teeth pressing into his flesh. He groaned at the discomfort, and I tried not to do that again. But the further we got into it –and damn, he took a while- he still hadn't cum and it was getting more and more difficult to keep my teeth out of the way. It was when I accidentally bit him that he gasped and pulled out.

"Okay, well, we'll… we'll work on it." He gave me a reassuring smile, but it didn't keep me from feeling like shit. I sat back and wiped at my mouth. "I'm gonna go take care of this in the bathroom. I'll be right back."

He stood up, and I wanted him to kiss me, but he didn't. We didn't kiss.

Left alone in my friend's bedroom, I quickly grew bored. I stood and changed out of my sticky boxer shorts. I wandered around the room, getting a better look at the little things that he kept around his space to make it his own. I found myself smiling at everything he'd personalized his bedroom with, because everything was just so Phil.

I was getting impatient, and considered shouting to Phil down the hall before I burst out laughing at the thought of how awkward that would be. The idea only made it more tempting, but I couldn't do that to him; he'd never let it go.

I shouldn't have been poking around on the shelves. None of it was my business, but curiosity and boredom overpowered any rationalization. I should've left his things alone, but I didn't realize that until I was already moving to sit back down on the bed.

I looked back to a few scattered books he may never have read, that may have only served the purpose of hiding the pill bottles with his name on them, and some long complicated word on the label that I couldn't identify or remember.

I heard the toilet flush down the hall, and footsteps returning to the room. I stared up at Phil as he came back in, looking relieved and content. He was smiling at me, fondness in his eyes that maybe didn't quite translate to love, but obvious caring at least.

I smiled back, and decided nothing had changed.


	8. Chapter 8

One of these days I'm gonna tell him how I feel. Today is not that day.

Four and a half years since we first spoke. It's still surreal to me.

Four and a half years and we developed some kind of mutual dependence on one another. I know I try to convince the viewers that we're two separate people with two separate lives, but that's just bullshit. It's almost physically painful when we're apart. Doing things just doesn't feel right when I'm not doing them with my best friend. Phil was the only person I trusted enough to tell about the antidepressants. He told me he was proud of me, and hugged me tight. I hugged back, and didn't tell him that I knew. Three years since I confided in him, I'm still waiting for the day he feels comfortable enough to tell me that he's medicated, too. I've learned patience; I can wait.

Four and a half years of friendship and unrequited love and we've been dubbed the best YouTube duo. I say things to get the shippers off our trail because I'm certain he doesn't feel the same about me as I do about him; sometimes it comes off as brushing off our friendship, and I know that hurts him as much as it hurts me.

Four and a half years later and I'm still the same lovesick fanboy that I was before we ever met, and over four and a half years I've only fallen more and more and harder than I could've thought possible. Everyone sees it –the fans, our friends… my mother once teasingly asked me when she could expect a son-in-law (my face was beet red the whole day after that).

I'm absolutely infatuated and everyone can see it except for Phil. And if he did, he never said anything –I'm not sure if that's more or less hurtful.

For a while I was just happy being his friend, because that alone was more than I could ever ask for. It was just a crush then –I thought that what I thought of him at the time would be disproven as too good to be true, and we'd just be good friends. Well, he did have faults, more than enough to escape the image I'd idolized. That didn't happen. It seems true love isn't when you love a person despite their flaws, but when you grow to love their flaws as well. And boy did I.

We're sitting on the sofa, both of us glad to be back home after the holidays. As much as I loved spending time with my family, Phil is my home now –even though he doesn't know it and probably never will. I lay my head on his shoulder as casually as possible, just craving closeness. When had I become so needy? Maybe when I grew used to being my most vulnerable for Phil and only Phil.

I blinked the wetness out of my eyes. Living with Phil, my best friend, was exactly what I needed, but at the same time it was poison going through heartbreak day in and day out. I'd never considered that he might love me back; who would? I wasn't anything special; I was just Dan, and just Dan was not enough for amazing Phil.

"Dan?"

I sit up. "Sorry."

He just stares at me, and I try not to start shaking. Why is he looking at me like that? I must've overstepped the boundaries, because as close as we are, laying my head on his shoulder was maybe too affectionate for his taste. I fix my hair. "Sorry."

"About what?" He tilts his head, as if he genuinely didn't understand what I was apologizing for. I don't say anything.

We're watching trashy TV together. I'm getting hungry but, far too lazy to get up, I just sink into my crease and groan out my frustration. Phil seems to get the point. "I'll go make some popcorn, then." He gets up and heads out of the room.

"Thank you!" I call out after him, watching him go and trying to be as discreet as possible as I stare at that perfect ass in those jeans. I shake dirty thoughts away and try to refocus on the TV.

We'd never gone all the way… maybe three-quarters of the way. And it was just back when we were still much younger and horny fuckers; it was with Phil that I first managed to go more than five minutes without cumming. I remember our last time: just before Christmas 2010, he'd sucked me off under the tree in probably the biggest middle finger to Christianity I've taken part in. We haven't touched like that since. I'll always remember it fondly.

I could smell the popcorn from the lounge, and knowing Phil would be back soon, I divert my mind from that festive mouth fuck to whatever the hell is playing on the television. He returns with the bowl and sets it in my lap, sitting back down right next to me, our thighs touching. I blush slightly and hope he doesn't notice.

Sometimes I wonder if things could've been different between the two of us. Maybe if I had told him how much I liked him in the beginning, we could've started from there. I'd been scared, worried I'd come off as just another fan, and so I pushed any romantic feelings down. Those repressed romantic desires probably only fueled my sexual ones, and that's how we came to be friends with benefits for a while. It had been loveless on his end, but he was still always very caring and gentle with me, and for that brief time, I could pretend that he loved me as much as I loved him.

When the sex dried up and we'd retreated back into the company of our own hands, our bond only grew stronger. We were the best of friends starting then, and we still are. Lately I've been slipping up a bit, doing anything to be near him even when we're on camera. I know it's risky, but I'm starting to just not care because all I want is Phil and nothing's ever going to change that.

I look at him, and he's just staring straight ahead with those crazy blue eyes. He hasn't touched the popcorn. He must feel my eyes on him because he turns to look back at me. He smiles and my face heats up, heart fluttering. So many things have been left unsaid, and I'm just not sure how much longer I can take it.

"I love you."

I hear the words, I'm certain of it. But my lips are shut tight, and it hadn't been my voice to say them.


End file.
